


Our Gentle Sin

by michaelandthegodsquad



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Demon Jack, Demons, M/M, Priest Rhys, Roman Catholicism, take me to church AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4412075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelandthegodsquad/pseuds/michaelandthegodsquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys. His name is Rhys. Jack sits in his pew and repeats the name to himself quietly, rolling it around his mouth as though tasting it. A priest, huh? Jack smiles wickedly. </p><p><i>Yeah</i>, Jack thinks, licking his lips as his eyes go dark. <i>Yeah. That’s the one.</i></p><p>OR</p><p>In which Jack is a demon searching for his next pet project, someone pure of heart to corrupt and condemn, and Rhys, a priest new to his parish, catches his eye. It's a long road to damnation, and Jack likes to take the scenic route.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Gentle Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired entirely by the Take Me to Church AU that originated on Tumblr with [Renqa](http://renqa.tumblr.com/tagged/take%20me%20to%20church%20au/chrono)/[theteenagehorror](http://theteenagehorror.com/tagged/take-me-to-church-au/chrono), [sleazyfemmedad](http://sleazyfemmedad.tumblr.com/), [lelelego](http://lelelego.tumblr.com/), and [jettiebettie](http://jettiebettie.tumblr.com/). Blame them or thank them or do both.
> 
> This was meant to stand alone, but it ended up reading a lot like the setup for something much bigger, which it might be? Eventually? Especially if the aforementioned muses continue to provide inspiration.
> 
> Title, of course, is from Hozier's "Take Me to Church."
> 
> Tags/ratings will be updated if and when this is continued.
> 
>  **EDIT, 7/26/15:** There is now a Russian translation of this fic, which can be found [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/3435736)! Thanks so much to [Spruce_deer](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spruce_deer) for the translation work--you are awesome!

There’s a pew in the back and to the left with Jack’s name on it.

No, literally, his name is on the seat of the pew, carved into the grain of the aging wood. The characters have softened a bit at the edges, no longer sharp as they’d been when he’d first etched them, but hey, it’s been a few decades. He runs his fingers over the runes, silently mouthing the sounds but being careful not to say them out loud, not even in a whisper.

To anyone else who’s sat in this pew in the last forty-five years or so, the runes probably just look like doodles, drawn by some bored kid who got dragged to Sunday mass. But Jack is old, _very_ old, and he reads them with a comforting familiarity, something warm blooming in his chest as his tongue silently curls around his true name. He prefers it to Jack, really, but you could never be too careful these days; a name is a powerful thing, and having it fall into the wrong hands could spell real trouble for him.

He lifts his head again after a while, leaning back in his seat and sighing. It’s been a slow day, and he’s getting bored. There’d been a few visitors here and there, a couple of prayer candles lit for sick loved ones, some impure thoughts whispered behind the curtains of the confessional, all vaguely interesting but nothing that _really_ caught Jack’s eye.

You’d think that a church would be the last place a demon would hang out, right? You probably imagine them spending their time in the sleazier parts of town, in strip clubs and brothels and opium dens, whispering into the ears of gamblers and crime bosses and politicians or something. And maybe to some extent that’s true; a few millennia ago, you might’ve even caught Jack doing the same. But these days, places like that just _bore_ him, the marks too easy and the fun short-lived. No, church is where the fun is at, all those people trying _so_ hard to be _good,_ giving Jack a nice challenge and the satisfaction of a job well done. But none of the ones he’d seen today were quite right for him.

He sighs again; it wasn’t always this difficult to find a mark, but he’d been around for a _long_ time, thousands of years of upping the ante, chasing a thrill always greater than the last one. He’d spent _years_ on Timothy, and it’s proven difficult to find another target that measures up, let alone surpasses him. The pure of heart were always the most fun to break down, but they’re scarce now and Jack is getting antsy. An old woman gives him a suspicious look as she walks by, keeping her distance, and Jack offers her a friendly smile, pushing his glasses up his nose before rolling his eyes as she turns away.

After another hour of nothing, he’s starting to consider a change in location. Some sun and sand might be nice. Maybe Miami? No, too easy, it may as well be Vegas at this point. He’d have to go somewhere more wholesome if he _really_ wanted a good time. Then again, maybe easy isn’t the worst idea right now; maybe he just needs someone to sooth the ache, scratch the itch until he finds another long-term project. He shrugs, thinking it over, readying himself to leave, when he sees him.

He’s just a kid, really, being led into the church by the pastor, looking terrified and awestruck but still so genuinely _happy_ to be here. It makes Jack gag a little bit, but he sits up and pays attention nonetheless. “And here it is,” the pastor says, gesturing a wide-spread arm to the church, and the kid cranes his neck to look up and check out the architecture. “Wow,” he says quietly, still looking up at the ceiling as he follows the pastor down the aisle.

Jack watches him while the pastor goes on about the building’s history and whatnot. The kid is _gorgeous,_ tall and lithe and all legs that Jack just wants to throw over his shoulders. Not much in the way of style, Jack notes, taking in the kid’s black slacks and tucked-in black button-down shirt, but not everyone can have it all, he supposes.

The kid keeps his hands stuffed in his pockets as he strolls down the aisle, stopping briefly just before the apse to take a knee and sign the cross, then following the pastor up to the altar. Jack watches closely as the pastor points to each of the stained glass windows curving around the dome of the apse and the kid listens, nodding along and asking questions, looking genuinely interested and not bored at all.

Jack can’t look away. There’s a sincerity to this kid that he finds captivating, a genuineness he hasn’t seen in a long time. The kid reaches a hand out to touch the altar, fingers running over the gold engraving of a lamb along the front, the light filtering in through the stained glass windows spilling colors onto the white marble like a kaleidoscope. He’s got a small smile curving his lips like he’s got a secret; Jack wants to drag it out of him, and he begins to think he may have found his mark.

“Anyway,” the pastor says, winding down his speech. “I think you’ll really like it here, Father Rhys.” The kid turns, smiling fully now at the pastor, and Jack’s eyes widen as he finally sees the front of his collar, the small square of stark white amidst all the black.

“Thank you,” the kid says earnestly. “I think I’ll like it here, too.” He glances around, briefly locking eyes with Jack, who sits stock still as the kid gives him a friendly smile and a dorky wave before turning to follow the pastor again, heading further into the back of the church.

Rhys. His name is Rhys. Jack sits in his pew and repeats the name to himself quietly, rolling it around his mouth as though tasting it. A priest, huh? Jack smiles wickedly.

 _Yeah,_ Jack thinks, licking his lips as his eyes go dark. _Yeah. That’s the one._

**Author's Note:**

> Come harass me on [Tumblr](http://michaelandthegodsquad.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Also be sure to check out the Take Me to Church AU [tag](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/take-me-to-church-au) on Tumblr; a community is forming around it and there's some amazing stuff happening!
> 
> Also, apologies for the bits that seem very USA-centric. (I am so sorry I am American trash)  
> If it seems like I went on a weird tangent about "true names" and stuff, I apologize for that as well; it will probably make more sense if I decide to continue this.


End file.
